


The Draw (now illustrated!)

by sixxxteentons



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: BDSM, Blood, Caught in the Act, Choking, F/M, Face Punching, Face Slapping, Fighting, Fucking, Humiliation, Light Bondage, Semi-Public Sex, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 04:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5728951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixxxteentons/pseuds/sixxxteentons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Tis the season of the Anatomy Park staff Christmas party. It's also time, high time, to take Rick Sanchez down a peg - but whether you succeed this time or not is a matter of interpretation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Draw (now illustrated!)

Anyone who’s spent any time around a cat, and is perhaps not the nicest person, knows that stroking a cat in the wrong direction produces a potent visual summary of hating everything about your current situation. And the reason that this visual summary came to mind at this time, was that you were just arriving at the first annual Anatomy Park staff Christmas party.  
Even if the recent drama hadn’t weighed on your mind, it was a truth self evident that no one left a staff party - especially not a Christmas staff party - unscathed.  
But there was one scene you wouldn’t mind making, and subsequently blame on the alcohol. And that would be punching Rick Sanchez in his horribly smug face.The worst part - but the list of top five worst parts kept rearranging itself in your mind depending on what you’d last chewed over - the worst part was that, _urgh_ , he would take it as a sign of defeat that you were even here to begin with.  
He had invited you, after all, and pressed you to accept. An “olive branch”. To “smooth things over”. Those might not be direct quotes - actually, the only thing you distinctly _did_ remember him pronouncing at the time were the inverted commas. The prick.  
But no, you weren’t here because he’d suggested it. You were here to… to prove you wouldn’t be intimidated into staying at home, to recite one of the speeches that had sounded so stirring in the shower, to make him eat his words, god damn it, or at least catch him in the act while there were still some sober witnesses left.

So when you walked up the stairs to the bunker of an office complex, you trailed an echo from your angry steps, your stilettos hitting the concrete and making a snap each time like a ruler against wood. If the guards had been asked to inspect passes, they sure didn’t feel like bothering with you, not like this. The doors slid open, and then through the airlock and out, past a long hallway stretching in either direction and there it was, past the widest doors, in all it’s predictable glory.  
  
Paper garlands slumped in piles and drooping from the ceiling, bog-standard plastic cups, now sticky, discarded on every surface, speakers placed haphazardly on the floor and, yes, crawling slowly in opposite directions with each deep bass vibration, as if embarrassed to acknowledge each other’s presence.  
What a cheap, sorry mess. And how reassuring to see that the same groups that chatted over the coffee machine without ever mingling across borders had found each other again, like high school cliques, and stood in circles, probably discussing the same pretentious theories or inane gossip as they would have any other day.  
Of course, you had your own group and weren’t any better yourself, but your friends didn’t seem to have arrived yet. Better hover by the drinks table, re-hydrate and keep an eagle eye on the dim room until your horrible boss dared to show his face. Now where could that most precious of furnitures be hiding?  
You doubled back, following the trail of plastic cups to the hallway just outside the main room until you found the sad little collection on a fold-out table. There was another one next to it covered in quite decent-looking food, but there were distinct signs that someone hairy had collapsed onto it at some point.  
Hm. There were ingredients here to make only half of ten different kinds of cocktails, and each of the bottles had already acquired a sticky coating. A rum and… well. A rum and rum. It was tolerable. Finding a clean cup proved to be an issue, but you managed it and knocked back the drink with as much enthusiasm as you could muster.  
  
…which in turn was how that colossal dickhead was able to sneak up on you, making you jump nearly out of your own skin with his bellow, directed at no one, of “Oh, wow, look - if it-if it… if it isn’t my favorite pain in the ass! Look everybody, she sho-urrp-showed!”  
You turned on your heel and tried to murder him right there and then with just the seething anger radiating from you. Rick was already leaning alarmingly to one side, with a bottle in hand and a filthy Santa outfit over his standard coat. The hat to match had caught on one of his clumps of unruly hair and now balanced there, delicately.  
Your hand flew to the bag you’d slung over one shoulder, and as you rummaged through it looking for your trump card, Rick made a show of taking in a sharp breath as he studied your outfit. “Wow, lace! Wow, y'know, what happened to the frigid killjoy who used to live here? Where’d you hide her? Should-should-I… should I call security?”  
There! There it was, finally. You snatched the crumpled bunch of papers from the bag and thrust them in front if his face so suddenly that he nearly lost his balance.  
“This! What the hell is _this_ supposed to be, Mr Sanchez?!”  
Rick leaned in theatrically to study the sheet closest to him.  
“Well, let… -urp- let me see. It looks like, like a complaint form!” You nearly had to duck as he gestured melodramatically with his bottle. “And what’s this here? ‘Sexual harassment’? My lord, I mean, I mean my word, that- we here at management take this sort of thing very seriously!”  
“It looks like you’ve blown your nose on it!”  
Rick fixed you with a manic look, all signs of pretense vanishing from his features.  
“I wanted to wipe my ass with it, but, ah, I had literally ran out of shit to give before I even arrived at my office!”  
  
Goddamnit, it was snot! You dropped the sheets on the floor and shuddered violently. “Urgh! How could you do that?!”  
“You need to learn to take a compliment.” Rick stalked closer, bore down on you and punctured each of the points he attempted to make with a sharp jab to your chest with a finger. Drink splashed from his bottle and landed unpleasantly on your dress sleeve. “Okay, this is the best piece of life advice you’ll ever get, which really, I should be charging for this out of your wages, but when-when-when… when someone like me makes a pass at someone like you, you’re grateful. You don’t… you don’t go bitching about it to HR… making me look like a-like some-like some sort of a creep in front of my-my OWN STAFF… as if they could-could even touch me!”  
If you had ever planned to deal with this in a professional manner, trying to reach some inner moral compass of his and prove to him he couldn’t treat his employees like this, the moment of that strategy died now, drowned in rising bile. He was pushing you! Physically shoving you! The nerve of him; who did he think he was?! Okay, your boss and a genius, but since when did that matter? And what the hell had he meant by 'someone like you’?!  
  
You saw a flicker of something like hesitation in his eyes as he realized, much too late, that he’d pushed you too far. And then your fist collided with his nose, and Rick collided with the door behind him and half slid, half crashed into the dark room beyond. Time slowed as pain raced up your arm and the loud thumps as whatever had momentarily broken Rick’s fall rained down around him. Only his feet stuck out of the gloom and you were terrified.  
  
Was… was he dead? What if something heavy had landed on him and he couldn’t breathe? He might deserve it, but your conscience didn’t.  
“Mr Sanchez…?”  
No response. You stepped over his long legs, across the threshold and into what, when you managed to find the light switch, turned out to be a crowded broom closet. That was all you could gather before his arm shot out and yanked your leg out from under you and you landed awkwardly, partially on top of him, partially on a discarded bucket and half on the dusty floor. “Oof!”  
Blood was trickling down the sides of his face, but Rick was alive and he was angry. “Yeah?! Come in here to-to finish me off, did you? Little shit!”  
He was on top of you in a moment, his whole, warm body pressed against you, his slim hands pushed against your shoulders and made the back of your head thud against the floor. God… so warm, so powerful, so… what was he again? Oh yes; infuriating. For a moment, you went limp, relaxed under him and even through his drunken haze he spotted that half-second of confusion.  
“Oh, baby… you’re finally giving in to me, huh? I-I-I told you it was inevitable…”  
That was it. You managed to get one arm free and swung your fist at his ear where it connected with a satisfying thump. “Ow! You… bitch!”  
Rick squirmed on top of you, got on his knees with one knee between your legs and slapped you clumsily across the face. “Don’t… don’t start this again with me, I could end you in a second!”  
  
That smug, disgusting, presumptuous, wrinkly piece of shit!  
“Oh yeah?” the slap had only angered you - you were beyond furious with him and that blocked out every other sensation. “Well, if I’m so completely powerless, you won’t mind if I do _this_!” Your thigh connected with his crotch and he folded over, his sticky face pressed against your chest and huffing hot breaths across your breasts as he groaned and tried to cope. It’d been such an awkward thing your skirt must have ripped to make way, but that was a small price to pay for his high-pitched sounds of misery.  
“If…” he croaked, “if you wanted to touch it so badly, you could have just asked.”  
While he was incapacitated, you took the opportunity to throw his thin body onto the floor and straddle him. God, this old bastard was really doing everything wrong. You wanted nothing more than to have him at your mercy and you figured he might have showed his hand by being so single minded about “seducing” you. This time it was you that slapped him and he moaned, first from that and then again as you mockingly rolled your hips on top of him. “Touch what? I can’t feel anything, Rick. Touch what?!”  
“Oh yeah, sweetie… do-do…do that again”  
“I aim to please.” You slapped him again, this time so hard his bloodied head turned to smack against the floor. “You think you’re ever going to fuck me?” You leaned in until your lips were at his ear. “I’ll fuck _you_ , Rick. And we’ll see how much you like it.”  
  
Rick just laughed, reached down to hold your waist with his warm, bony hands so you wouldn’t get away when he pushed up into you. And it had been a lie - you did feel something, big and hot and promising. “Bring it,” he spat. A moan, angry, hungry, was his reward.  
Fine. It was on. You got up and tore into his clothes, pulled his leather belt free, yanked his trousers down so fast he gritted his teeth in pain. His cock was finally free and just like that, a part of his bravado was explained. Rick looked down at you with a smug reaction, probably expecting you to forgive everything there and then. Well, that’s not how this would go. One swift movement and his belt was around his neck, pinching his skin painfully and choking him as you pulled it.  
“Ow!”  
“Are you going to behave, you rat?”  
Rick jolted. His face betrayed fear, excitement, anger. “Fuck! Yeah yeah, jeez, I’ll behave!”  
You reached down with your free hand to tug up your broken skirt around your waist and pull your panties to one side. His cock was so thick, so hard, and you were going to take from it what you needed. His personality was just another worthless appendage, along for the ride and completely unwelcome.  
When you took it in your hand and guided it roughly, sat down on him and forced him deep inside you, he shut his eyes and growled. And you couldn’t help agree - it was bliss. So thick, so hot, so wide around the middle, stretching your soaking, starved cunt so perfectly that for a moment, you forgot to be angry with him. But then he dared to thrust up his hips for more and as good as it felt, as much as it made you tense and shiver, you couldn’t have that. You yanked his make-shift noose.  
  
“Ahhh… s-sorry, miss…” he croaked.  
Sarcasm, was it? You started out a merciless pace, grinding on top of him and sliding him so deep in and so far out that each time you sat back down you threatened to break it. Rick was a tool, nothing more - a callous old prick, and you used him like little more than a dildo. He might have been smug earlier, but now he was gasping for air, gasping for more, squirming under you and biting back moans, his face still bloodied and his once-cheeky eyes now black with need and lust.  
You leaned back on top of him, put your weight on your hands on either side of his legs and bucked on top of him, forcing his cock to rub hard against the wall inside of you and it felt so good, so fucking good… that for five blissful seconds you forgot that it’d meant letting go of the belt.  
Rick had noticed though, and with a snarl he thrust up, so hard and so sudden that it made you yelp with pain and need, and while you were distracted and nearly drooling for more he pushed you off him and tackled you to the floor. The horrible cover-all carpet of the hallway beyond the door tickled your nose as he forced your head down and yanked your ass up with both his strong hands and then held you firmly in place.  
  
“Ahh, that’s sooo much better,” Rick drawled lazily and rummaged behind you. The sound of metal and leather was a warning but it came much too late - your arms were pulled roughly behind your back and your wrists tied together with the belt, tight, uncomfortable. “See… I-I’ve been picturing you like this since the second I hired you,” he continued, laughing at your struggling and handling you with ease as if he’d been born for this. “Ass up, cunt so wet it drips to the floor, just begging for an old sleaze like me to -urp- to pump it full of cum…” One slim finger came up to run along your pussy, from your throbbing, demanding little clit to your starved entrance and he listened entranced to your angry, defensive growl. “And-and baby, mmm, I gotta say… you look even fucking nastier now than I could ever have imagined.”  
“Urgh, fuck you!” you squirmed under him, tried to kick and get away, or crawl back at least so that your head wasn’t sticking out of the room where anyone could spot you, but he just cackled again and kept teasing you with his fingers.  
“What’s the hold up?” you spat. “Trying to coax some life back into that whiskey dick, is that it?”  
Rick growled. His pretend-calm was gone in an instant, and you had barely finished your sentence before he forced himself back inside you again, thrusting so hard you got thought you’d get burned from the carpet. “Wh-what was that you called it?” He pulled back nearly all the way, then slammed back into you, so hard and so deep you felt his balls bounce against your swollen clit.  
“Oh my god… oh god…!”  
“yeah, that’s… that’s better. You-you’re going to worship it by the time I’m done with you.”  
  
His right hand dug its fingers into your hip, his left came down to tangle in your hair and yank your head up roughly. Now you weren’t squirming to get away, you were squirming for purchase, for your balance, so you could rock back and meet each of his thrusts and bounce off him. But he wouldn’t allow you even that. He just forced his cock back in again and again, let his hips slap against your ass again and again and if you hadn’t been so wide open with need and so fucking furious, it would have hurt. It took a few seconds of bliss, almost pure but still tinged with anger, before you could speak again. “Fuck you, Rick - this means nothing.”  
“Hah! You-you’re trying to tell you your eyes aren’t rolling back in your skull right now? You’re not praying I’ll pull out before I cum, just so you get the privilege to lick it off the floor?”  
“Oh God… oh fuck… will you just shut up?!”  
“Mmh,” he snarled, “your pussy’s so tight, so young… look at you, arching your back for me.”  
Remaining angry was a struggle, and those dirty, dirty words just hurried along your inevitable defeat. You twisted your head to catch a glimpse of him and he could read it all over your flushed face. “Hah! Damn, baby… looks like you were made for this, huh? Getting… getting fucked.”  
“Oh God… please,” you begged, secretly praying he’d ignore your protests or get worse just in order to taunt you. “Just stop talking like that…”  
“I-I-I tried to tell you, sweet cheeks - this is all you’re good for, keeping your boss happy, on your knees…”  
Rick pulled out and you whined at the loss, stuck your ass up, tried to will him to keep taking you. “Shhh,” he responded. “I want to see that pretty, angry face…"With one quick move, he lifted you and flipped you over on your back and you had to squirm to get comfortable, not to crush your bound arms, before you settled on raising your hips off the ground to put your weight on your feet and shoulder blades.  
  
Rick hovered over you, his slick, throbbing cock firmly in hand, a cruel grin on his creepy old face and that horrid santa robe still on him, only now even more soaked. God damn him - he had you now after all and even if you’d had the option, you both knew you wouldn’t walk away without finishing what you’d started.  
Just to prove his point, he got on top of you, dick held painfully out of reach, leaned on his hand just beside your face and let his nose gently touch yours, waiting for you to beg him to lean in just a little more. His reeked like an ashtray and you whimpered, strained your neck to catch his lips.  
Rick’s kiss was a mockery of tenderness -  slow, sensuous, restrained - and he eagerly caught all your little sighs and mewls, the way your tongue explored him, trying to deepen the kiss, the way your whole body squirmed in an effort to get close, to get filled. Instead he leaned out just a little, trailed equally gentle kisses up your neck, breathed hotly by your ear and you could hear his smug grin.  
Well, you’d had enough of that. He thought all it would take for you to become putty in his hands was him jack-rabbiting for five seconds? His words came back to you: ” _when someone like me makes a pass at someone like you_ “. Fuck him. You twisted your head, mustered all your force and spat, hard, straight onto his cheek.  
  
There was a tense pause in which neither of you moved. Had you gone too far? And did those butterflies flutter up a storm in your belly because you were worried that you had, or that you hadn’t? Rick finally sat back up, wiped your phlegm off his chin onto the fluffy wrist of his robe with theatrical care and looked down into your eyes with absolute and cold disapproval. Then slowly, that smile crept back, his eyes darkened and he murmured:  
"Oh, I get it.” Your stomach sunk with dread, your legs trembled with anticipation and your pussy tightened with need - you’d pushed him and now whatever he did to try to put you in your place again was going to be wonderful; wonderful and horrible. “You-you looking for another smack? Baby, there’s no need to play these games - if you want me to treat you rough, all you gotta do is say so.”  
  
  
  
The very next moment he was bent over you again, choking you with his hand, lips inches from yours and twisted into a vicious snarl. “You’ve been nothing but a little goddamn tease ever since you started working here, but that-that-that ends now, you hear?”  
You moaned, tried to nod, but he ignored you and pressed on. “From now on, from now on you call me Mr Sanchez.”  
“Yes, ahh… yes, Mr Sanchez!”  
“Shut up, I’m not finished.” He squeezed around your throat until he heard a whine of an apology. “From now on, you’re wearing cute skirts to work every day, whether I’m there or not, and when I… when I snap my fingers, you’re bending over my desk and pulling it up to give me access.”  
God, just the idea of it. If he was going to be this rough, this good, this psychic you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself. But he didn’t have to know that.  
“F…fuck you.”  
“Yeah. We’ll see if you can live without it.”  
Rick leaned back on his knees, lifted your hips and finally, at last, just when you’d thought you’d have to beg to get it back, his cock was inside you again. If he’d paid attention to you before, he didn’t bother now. Instead he worked furiously, eyes shut tight, using your body to bring himself closer and closer.  
“Oh fuck, yes, Mr Sanchez thank you…”  
And, fuck, was that…? You went rigid, tried to get away, tried to wordlessly get his attention and make him pause. Of course it was just sheer luck that this hadn’t happened sooner - someone was walking in the corridor and would spot you lying there half outside the closet any second now.  
Rick caught it too and opened his eyes to smile down at you. He leaned back just a bit to get a better angle and the next time he pushed inside, he forced you to cry out in blind, mind-numbing pleasure.  
“Hello?” came the uncertain voice, the owner of it just at an angle where you couldn’t spot them yet. “Is… is everything alright?”  
“Rick, please!” you hissed and tried again to get away. It took a second to realize why your words didn’t seem to register and then you whined. “Mr Sanchez, please, please I don’t want to be caught like this!”  
  
No matter how you twisted your head the person outside seemed to be behind it.  
“Hello?” came the voice again and the footsteps approached hurriedly.  
Finally, Rick spoke up, calm but out of breath, looking up at the intruder: “Oh don’t worry about her - she’s, she’s having the time of her life, aren’t you, my little doll?”  
Your middle aged coworker came into view and you both stared at each other in absolute frozen mortification, trying to process how something this embarrassing could ever be allowed to happen in the real world and Rick, caring nothing, just kept fucking you. You tried to turn your head away, hide, but soon his thrusts overwhelmed you again and your whines of embarrassment turned into moans and gasps of pleasure. “See?” Rick laughed. “Now run along, a-a-and don’t tell anyone what you saw or the next thing that gives you that dumb expression is going to be a bottle to the back of your head.”  
He needn’t have bothered - the man was stumbling away from you as fast as his legs would carry him even before Rick had finished talking, and soon not even his feet could be heard over the sound of the music and loud talking from the hall.  
  
What could you do? Fight against the humiliation, tooth and nail? Curse it, curse him, end this here and now like you knew you could if you just asked - or succumb to it, let it wash over you and add just another note to the tune Rick was playing on your poor, starved body…  
You hadn’t even made a conscious decision before you were rocking back onto him for more, watching slack-jawed and entranced how his thick, veiny cock, crowned by silver hair,  glittering with your wetness pumped in and out of you and how you received it, grateful and aching.  
Nothing more needed be said. Embarrassment and resentment could come later - this was much more pressing.  
“You-you really look perfect like this,” Rick whispered. “You should just stay here. Take care of my dick for me…”  
“Mmmhh… yes”  
“Where do you want it, sweetie? You wanna-you wanna taste it?”  
You nodded and his responding chuckle made your heart skip a beat with excitement. Rick pulled out, climbed over you to straddle your head and pull you up roughly by your hair. His other hand held his cock, smeared it across your cheek, teased your lips with the soaked, pink head. God, you wanted to taste it… You managed finally to catch him with your mouth and he fed it to you, inch by inch, stroking your face tenderly and sighing, content.  
You had to strain your neck to take him in and soon he was thrusting, hard, and just as his cock was starting to pulse, he pulled out and came, hot and fast, letting it land on your cheeks, your nose, your outstretched tongue. His hand was still tangled in your locks so that you wouldn’t escape as he kept coming and his face was tense and scowling. Shivers ran up from the soles of your feet. He was gorgeous.  
  
Rick barely had the strength to stand back up but he got clumsily off you and rolled onto the floor in the cramped space, panting, groaning, overcome. For once, he looked completely relaxed, almost happy, until he caught you looking over and his smile twisted into a patronizing smirk. Right now, you were too soaked and too well fucked to even get irritated with him.  
“I told you, sweetie,” he said. “Feeling grateful yet?”  
“You didn’t even make me come, mr Sanchez,” you replied, but it was a half hearted effort. He reached his hand over to you to play gently with the cooling jism on your face as gently as he’d stroked you before.  
“Don’t be like that - I gave you something much better. It looks real good on you, too…”  
Urgh. It was that easy - just him being dirty made your pussy twitch and hunger. But before you could respond, there was more noise coming from down the hall - someone was leaving the building. Whatever of tender feelings might have been growing inside Rick as he saw the masterpiece he’d created died on the vine and he got unsteadily to his feet. “Can’t lie here all night - I’ve got other guests to entertain, you know.”  
  
You sat up and watched him go, just in case he’d look back. He didn’t. It didn’t hurt or disappoint - the last thing you needed now was pillow talk and cuddling and you had a feeling you could get his attention again if you needed it.  
Instead you waited until the coast had cleared and slipped out the corridor, out the door and into the night, heading home for a shower, a piece of toast and, if this heat didn’t die down by then, a sock with “Rick Sanchez” written all over it.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I am suuuuuper new to writing fic and not really looking for concrit yet! For now, I'm just proud I'm brave enough to write anything, and easily bruised like the banana that I am. I hope you've enjoyed my sleazy old man porn!


End file.
